


bow me down

by jaqhad (kyrilu)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Poe Dameron (Comics), Star Wars: Resistance (Cartoon)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, MayThe4th Treat, Mission Fic, Power Dynamics, Pre-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:34:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23676190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyrilu/pseuds/jaqhad
Summary: Poe makes the most stupid decision of his entire rebel career.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Terex
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15
Collections: May the 4th Be With You Star Wars Fanworks Exchange 2020





	bow me down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thedevilchicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/gifts).



> Well, this got entirely out of hand.
> 
> TDC, thank you for okaying the SW: Resistance crossover elements. The SW: Resistance stuff is plot/mission dressing, and this fic should be readable without having watched it.
> 
> Continuity notes (no need to be familiar with these, either!): I used the [unnamed sergeant](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Unidentified_First_Order_stormtrooper_sergeant) from the Galaxy’s Edge comic to fill in a generic First Order bad guy role; that’s what he looks like, if you’re curious. At one point, Poe reflects on a battle from the last war, and that’s the [Assault on the Mako-Ta Space Docks](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Assault_on_the_Mako-Ta_Space_Docks). There are some references to events that took place in Snap’s past, which played out in Chuck Wendig’s Aftermath Trilogy.

“You did _what_?!” 

The Resistance pilot at the other end of the comm winces. “We stopped on Kaddak for parts because the _Colossus_ needs some urgent repair work -- Synara said that some of her underworld contacts here owe her a favor. But, uh, the First Order found out that we’re here and we’re playing hide-and-seek in the city. Also, Synara’s underworld friends have a new boss. He says he knows you, and he said to tell you: Kaddak is his planet, so ‘please come here and clean up this mess.’ I think his name is Terex?” 

Poe puts his face in his hands. “Great. Awesome. Hang tight, Kaz. I’ll be there. And tell Terex that he better not hurt any of you or hand you over to the Order, or else we’re gonna launch him into space like he did to Lor San Tekka.”

A crackle of chatter. Kaz Xiono says, “He said to tell you that you’re in no position to make threats, and that you better show up and do your saving-the-day thing again, because our safety is low on his priority list since this is his business that’s being disrupted.” 

“Tell him that the Resistance doesn’t care about the priorities of an ex-First Order agent turned criminal.” 

“This is ridiculous,” says someone else. It’s a sharp female voice this time. Kaz’s friend Synara? “Commander Dameron, just come here and tell him yourself.” There’s laughter--a familiar low chuckle--and the comm clicks off. 

Poe turns to Leia. “Right. I’m going.” 

Soberly, she says, “I know that you and Terex have a history, Poe, but remember, the _Colossus_ is one of our key refueling stations. We have to make sure that it doesn’t fall into the First Order’s hands. This is more than personal business.” 

“I know,” Poe says, grimly. “We can’t let down all those people in the _Colossus_.” 

After all, most of them aren’t typical rebels who signed up or were recruited into the fight. They’re civilians who were forced to go on the run after the First Order attempted to seize the platform--their home. They’re exactly the kind of people that the Resistance has sworn to protect.

Like hell will Poe allow Terex’s amoral whims to get in the way of that duty.

“Beebee, get my ship prepped to go,” Poe says. 

BB-8 chirps and rolls out of the control room. It’s an adjustment, learning the habits and tics of his new X-wing -- Poe misses his _Black One_ fiercely -- though he’s slowly getting there, largely due to his little friend’s help. “Thanks, buddy.” 

Leia says, “You’re not doing this one alone, Poe. I’ll assemble a team. I wish we had more people available, but the battle for Kashyyyk has diverted our forces…” 

Poe nods. Rey, Finn, Chewbacca, and Rose are there, assisting the local Wookiee insurgency. He’d wanted to come along, except the general’s been pushing him to assume more of a command role on their base here on Pacara. Truthfully, he’s been getting restless, even as he learns the detailed ins-and-outs of supervising and planning, monitoring the war on multiple fronts…

This Kaddak mission is almost good timing.

When Poe reaches the hangar, he cracks a grin when he sees the team that Leia’s chosen for him.

“You’re not facing that bastard without us,” Karé says, leaning against her X-wing.

“We’ve got your back, Poe,” Jess says. In front of her, two astromechs are playing a modified game of rock-flimsi-scissors with their metal extensions. “Arfive, looks like you’re coming with me. What d’you mean, two out of three--?” 

Snap shakes his head as the droids erupt into argumentative beeps. He says to Poe, “Venisa Doza is an old friend of my mom’s--they both flew for the Alliance back in the day. Right now, Commander Doza’s busy trying to break the blockade over Kashyyyk, and she’ll be pissed if anything happens to the _Colossus_. I’m definitely not turning down this mission.” 

Suralinda smiles, her fangs glinting in the light. “I didn’t get the chance to meet this Terex guy. Curious what he’s like. Anyways, I’ve been a bit bored doing the usual PR stuff for the Resistance--maybe I’ll find a new story on Kaddak.”

When you’re assigned to a high-stakes mission, there’s nothing more reassuring than having people you trust by your side.

“Black Squadron,” Poe says, beaming. “The gang’s back together.” 

* * *

Which brings them to _now._

“Is Kazuda Xiono really what passes for a Resistance intelligence operative these days? This boy is an idiot.” 

(“Hey!”) 

“As if you’re the brightest glowrod in the pack,” Poe retorts. “Don’t you remember all the times I beat you?” 

“It seems our memories are different. I recall reckless stunts and righteous monologues,” Terex shoots back. “I can’t believe your people had the audacity to ask me-- _me_ \-- for help. I won’t do something as asinine as choosing a side. You and the First Order are free to wreak havoc across the Rim all you like, but I own this planet, and you’re not bringing this war to my doorstep.” 

“You can’t avoid the war, Terex. When you’ve got a regime like the First Order, they’re not gonna stop invading planets and causing destruction.” 

“Don’t presume to lecture me about the Order’s methods, you moronic pilot--” 

Suralinda asks, “Were they always like this?” 

Snap snorts. “Oh, yeah. Only with more stabbing.” 

Kaz’s violet-skinned Mirialan friend--Synara San--shoulders her way past Terex’s armored bodyguards. “As touching as this reunion is, we must figure out a way to deal with the stormtroopers searching for us--”

“--tearing up _my_ city--”

“And we have to ensure that the _Colossus_ receives the vital repairs it needs before its back-up systems fail,” Synara continues, glaring at Terex. “It’s currently hidden behind Kaddak’s second moon and out of range of the First Order TIEs’ scanners. However, with this planet’s rotation, it’s only a matter of time before it’s discovered -- or, as I said, its life support fails, and everyone inside perishes.” 

“It’s bad,” Kaz says, with a gusty sigh, running his hands through his hair. “It would’ve been better if we stopped somewhere else, but we were in the quadrant and low on fuel. Maybe we can evacuate everyone out, at least.”

“Absolutely not,” Terex says. “That’ll draw the TIEs’ attention to your station, and they’ll get blasted down or captured either way. Besides, Kaddak is not a charity home for rebel fugitives.”

With the right timing and speed, Black Squadron had been able to narrowly slip past the TIEs hovering over Kaddak. A large space station like the _Colossus_ won’t be able to do the same. And an evacuation won’t solve the entire problem, though, since the First Order will still be here and hunting for them. 

This requires a plan. A scheme. And it calls for cooperation and coordination from all sides of the equation. 

Poe says, “Terex, talk with me. Just one-on-one.” 

Terex regards him with a steely grey gaze. “Fine.” 

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Jess says. 

“Don’t worry. I got this.” He hopes. 

* * *

The adjacent room in Terex’s safehouse is a dimly lit sleeping quarters. The symbol of the Ranc gang is emblazoned on the walls. Through the transparisteel window, one can see the sprawl of the surrounding levels of the city.

Terex stands in front of the window, the light streaming behind him. He isn’t wearing the First Order Security Bureau uniform any longer, but a suit of crimson-and-silver armor. Prominent scarring mars the right side of his face, faded angry red lines like branching lightning, and for a startling moment, Poe tries to guess what it would feel like if he touched it…

Poe clears his throat. He’s not a diplomat like Leia, but lives are on the line here. “I know we’re both stubborn mynocks, and we were on opposite sides in the past. We’re never gonna be best pals, not after everything you’ve done, but we’ve got to work together for this one, so _everyone_ is happy. You get this lawless pit of a planet all to yourself. The Resistance gets the _Colossus_ up and running and outta your hair… or whatever that is left on your head. 

“Your gang owes Synara San a favor. That’s a debt, and debts are a big thing in the underworld. I’m sure other syndicates would like to know that the Rancs keep their word. 

“Come on, Terex. Let’s make this win happen. So no one except the First Order gets hurt, and we win, my people and your people both.” 

Terex is silent, his mouth a tight line. Poe wonders if the hair quip went too far. He’s aware that not everyone can have hair like his.

Finally, Terex says, “I’ll work with you. Under one condition: if you say my name.” 

What in the stars is he talking about? “I’ve been saying it.” 

“No,” Terex says. “Properly. _Lord_ Terex.” 

Poe groans. “Are you serious?” 

Anyone else in the galaxy would demand valuable favors from the Resistance if they were in Terex’s position. Credits. Weapons. Starships. Leia’s autograph. Anything.

Yet Terex looks at him, expectant, and that’s when it hits Poe that Terex _is_ serious.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Poe says. “Your ego is something else, man.” 

“As I told you before, titles matter.” 

“General Organa might be a princess, but we’re fighting to reinstate democracy,” Poe says, dryly. “Don’t you get enough of this every day from your subjects and minions?” 

Terex says, “I want to hear it from you.” 

“... ‘Lord’ Terex. There.” 

“Without the sarcasm. I know you can do better than that.” 

Poe’s fists clench at his sides. It’s a ridiculous request. What does Terex want from him--? He bites back an irritated growl and blinks rapidly, eyelids fluttering.

Terex murmurs, “Poe, eyes up. Look at me. Breathe. And then say my name.” 

Poe does. He darts his tongue across his lips. “Lord Terex.” 

Terex draws in a sharp inhale. “Again.”

“I--”

“Say it.” 

There is a hair’s breadth between them, their bodies nearly flush against each other. His heartbeat is roaring in his ears and it feels like the entire universe is reverberating through him, faster than lightspeed, faster than anything. 

Poe says, “... Lord Terex...” He tilts his head up, and Terex is leaning close-- _closer_ \--

Terex’s eyes glimmer in the semidarkness. He takes a step backward toward the window, widening the distance. “Well done. The condition has been fulfilled. Let’s save the day. _Together._ ” 

He dips his head downward and strides toward the door. 

Poe stares after him. He thinks: What the kark. What the kark was that, Poe Dameron, you utter nerko. 

There is an uncomfortable stiff heat in his trousers. He hates Terex so much. So much. 

* * *

“--So, that’s my plan,” Poe finishes, addressing the gathered crowd of Black Squadron pilots, BB-8, CB-23, Kaz Xiono, Synara San, and Terex.

“I guess that might work,” Karé says. “Crazy, but it’s not as if we haven’t done crazier things before.” 

“Though it all depends on this guy not stabbing us in the back,” Jess says, jerking her thumb toward Terex. “Are we really trusting him? After everything that happened with L’ulo and Oddy?”

“It appears that you and your people have no other options, Ms. Pava,” Terex says, coolly. “Poe and I have come to an accord.” 

Poe wills his tone to stay even. “I don’t like it, either, Jess, but the _Colossus_ is running out of time.” 

“Ah, Commander Dameron,” pipes up C3-PO, who’s participating via BB-8’s holotransmitter. “That sounds like an excellent plan, if rather risky. I’d like to propose a minor modification. My network of droids has informed me that Kaddak possesses an automated defense system that might be of use under these circumstances.” 

“An automated defense system?” Poe repeats, raising an eyebrow. That’d be a major asset, though he never would have imagined that an Outer Rim crime den like Kaddak would have constructed tech like that. “Terex, are Threepio’s spies right?” 

C3-PO corrects, “My operatives, please, if you will.” 

Terex puts a hand underneath his chin. “They’re half-right. I and several -- ah -- old friends -- plundered the Rothana Imperial Shipyards for resources to establish our operations here. The automated defense system was among our findings, and we had it installed on Kaddak’s first moon.

“We abandoned the project when complications arose. Namely, we couldn’t get the system functioning, as it was a Tarkin Initiative project that confounded all the slicers we threw at it. Based on ancient Clone Wars era tech as well as being encoded to hell and back… we put it on the backburner and returned to more fruitful ventures.” 

Kaz makes a face. “Sounds like a dead end.” 

Abruptly, CB-23 interjects, _Bweep--vworp--bwoo._

“Oh! That is most fortuitous!” C3-PO exclaims, the blue holo-projection of him clapping his hands. “Captain Doza shared Imperial datafiles with Seebee-Twenty-Three, so she could assist with running the _Colossus_ , as it was once an Imperial fuel depot. Unique Tarkin Initiative codes were included in the data packets. We simply require a slicer to assist the start-up process, preferably one familiar with Separatist technology.” 

“Our chief engineer could do it,” Synara says, thoughtful. “Unfortunately, Neeku and our other mechanics are preoccupied prolonging the life support systems onboard the _Colossus._ ” Turning to Terex, she says, “Do the Rancs have any slicer specialists on standby?” 

“Actually,” Snap says, “I might be able to help with that.” 

* * *

“Attention! This is Lord Terex of the Ranc syndicate. To the visitors hailing from the First Order, I await your arrival on the seventy-second level of the Silver. I have successfully captured the irritating rebel Poe Dameron, and I have a business proposition to make. Please get here post-haste before I cut his throat myself.”

Terex puts down the comm speaker mic. “How do you rate my performance?” 

Poe says, “You’re enjoying yourself way too much.”

“I thought the purpose of your little plan was to make this as realistic as possible.”

“I think you’re just happy to see me in binders,” Poe says, and immediately regrets it. 

One of Terex’s underlings had enclosed the durasteel cuffs around his wrists. They’re in a pretentious throne room that only someone like Terex would inhabit, flags and vibro-weapons adorning the walls. 

From the throne, Terex peers at him in amusement. “Is happiness the accurate term here?”

Poe refuses to respond to that. He says to BB-8: “Is everyone else going where they’re supposed to?” 

Hiding behind a pillar, the rollie beeps an affirmative. 

They don’t end up waiting for the First Order very long. The door flies open, revealing a squadron of stormtroopers. The leader stomps in and rasps through his vocoder, “Dameron. Finally a chance to even the score.” 

“Am I supposed to know you? Kinda hard to tell with the, y’know, helmet.” Poe tips his head toward him. “Plus, I’ve met hundreds of you bucketheads and I’m not exactly keeping track. Too busy blasting.” 

The trooper takes off his helmet. “Then I’ll introduce myself. I am Sergeant Adres of the 709th Legion.” He has sheer blond hair, pale skin, and a glinting blue prosthetic eye. 

So-called Red Fury troopers. They’re nasty gundark spawn. Poe thought that the Resistance had wiped out most of them, but apparently not. 

Terex’s voice rings throughout the room. “Before you get too ahead of yourself, Sergeant, let’s talk business.” 

“We are the First Order,” Adres says, sneering. “This man is a rebel terrorist, and our authority usurps petty local criminals like yourself. Hand him over.” 

“He has a bounty on his head, does he not? I’d like to claim the spoils, though perhaps accompanied with alternative forms of recompense. Insurance that the First Order will allow our operations to continue running smoothly as usual. Perhaps a profitable arrangement regarding First Order access to Kaddak’s shipyards.” 

“You’ve got some nerve to make demands of us. Agent Terex. I’ve heard of you. A deserter.”

Terex shrugs. “If you won’t work with me,” he snaps his fingers, and suddenly, one of Terex’s guards presses the tip of his electro-lance to Poe’s back, “then I suppose I can dispose of Dameron. When I was in the First Order Security Bureau, he was a constant thorn in my side. I assure you, I’ve been wanting to kill him for ages, and I’m eager to do the deed immediately.” He snaps his fingers again--

\--and it’s as if Poe’s entire body is on fire, a lightning shock that makes his muscles spasm and his limbs writhe, bringing him to his knees--

Adres starts, says, “Wait--”

Another click of Terex’s fingers, and the electro-lance lifts away. Poe, panting, can still feel pinpricks of electricity sparking against his skin.

_Terex, you fragging asshole._

Terex looks like a pleased tooka that caught a womp-rat. “Ah, that’s right. Information is what makes planets go ‘round. You and your troopers were initially summoned here because you were tipped off that known Resistance spy Kazuda Xiono was spotted in the Silver. You wish to find him and the much sought after _Colossus_ station that he’s associated with… and Dameron’s your first lead. You need him alive. 

“It appears, Sergeant, that we’re at an impasse.”

A dour glower clouds Adres’ face. “Fine. We’ll negotiate.”

“Splendid! Why don’t we have a drink in the lounge next door?” Terex stands up from his throne. “We’ll iron out the finer details of our agreement and part like gentlemen. My men will keep an eye on Poe, and you can pick him up on your way out.”

Adres grunts, and he and his troopers follow Terex to the next room. As soon as they’re out of sight, Poe struggles to get back on his feet. Nope, everything still burns like he’s been stung by wasp-worms. 

BB-8 peeks out from the pillar. _Vwoo._

“I’m okay, buddy,” Poe says. “All part of the act. I think. Just -- open a comm line to the others. Silver Team Two, what’s your status?” 

“There’s only one other squad of troopers in the city,” Jess says. “Threepio’s spies -- operatives, whatever -- confirmed their location. They’re in the central shipyard’s docking bay, checking IDs. You were right. The captured rebel gambit diverted their main unit--their top brass--and there are these lackeys left. I’m looking at them through a blaster rifle scope now.”

Synara says, “And I as well. For all his faults, Terex has some decent toys. I’ve missed hunting.” 

“Glad to hear it,” Poe says. “Terex is busy distracting the top brass in question right now.”

“You’re hanging in there alright, Poe?” 

“‘Course. How about you, Silver Team Three?” 

“We’re in atmo,” Karé reports. “Scanning the patrolling TIEs around Kaddak, it looks like there are three of the usual fighter models -- and one Echelon, which I’m guessing the troopers arrived in, that’s easy shooting -- and… kriff, one Baron.” 

“Seriously?!” Kaz yelps. “I hate those things.” 

Suralinda lets out a low whistle. “Three against five, when one of those five is a Baron. Well, we can beat them. Imagine the headlines in the Resistance newsletter.” 

“If it’s our obituary, sure,” Karé says. 

“You’re not going to be alone,” Poe says, as reassuring as he can. He knows how dangerous Barons can be, especially if they’re flown by capable TIE pilots. “If everything goes to plan, that is. Silver Team Four? Most of this is banking on you.” 

“Thanks for the pressure,” Snap replies, his voice slightly muffled. “But, don’t worry, I’m already feeling it. Literally. Seebee and I have landed on Kaddak’s first moon, and the gravity’s killing me. I forgot how much I hate wearing EVA suits. I see the array, though.” 

“I’d say may the Force be with you, but it sounds like it already is. Good luck.” Poe nods, and BB-8 spins back behind the pillar. They still need a little more time, he thinks, but Terex is making time. 

For once, Terex’s talent for never shutting up is coming in handy. Who would have thought? 

* * *

An indeterminate period of time later, the door opens. Terex is saying, “... Appreciate doing business with you. I expect the credits to be wired to my accounts by tomorrow morning, as well as the contract to be signed by your superior officer. I’m pleased that this has been a beneficial enterprise for both our parties.” 

In the interim, Poe had managed to stand, staggering, his wrists still durasteel bound behind him. He meets Terex’s gaze straight on, and he shakes his head minutely. BB-8 has yet to receive the go-ahead from the others. 

Understanding flickers in Terex’s eyes. Then he gives Poe a curve of a smile that sends a strange cold frisson thrilling through him.

 _I have a bad feeling about this_ , he thinks. 

Terex says, “Sergeant, an interesting idea occurred to me."

“Oh?” Adres inquires, impatiently. “I’m sick of your stories about your stormtrooper glory days, old man. You’ve agreed to give us the rebel.” 

“Why don’t I sweeten the pot? A gift from the Ranc syndicate to the First Order.” Terex presses a button on the wall, revealing a storage compartment behind it. “I have, in my own possession, an Imperial era IT-O droid. A reliable old thing, if you ask me, more dependable than the Order’s own newfangled versions. It’ll be able to pry all of Poe Dameron’s secrets from him, and you’ll walk away with the information you need. You won’t have to interrogate him yourself.” 

An interrogation droid. A torture droid.

Poe stares at the gleaming black orb, and he sees his own eyes reflected back at him. 

“Terex,” he says, “don’t you _dare_ - _-_ ”

“Shh,” Terex says. “I wonder how long you’ll last, Poe.” 

“That _is_ interesting,” Adres says, appreciatively. “Very well, Terex, I suppose I’ll take up your offer of a game of sabacc after all, while your little droid does the job. RS-2112, oversee the interrogation process and make sure the rebel squeals.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I hope your sabacc face is adequate,” Terex says to Adres. “I’ve found that most stormtroopers are like open datapads. Especially you First Order types who wore helmets ever since you could walk.” 

“It’s passable enough.” 

They retreat toward the lounge, Terex’s guards peeling away to join them, leaving Poe with the lone stormtrooper.

The stormtrooper touches the droid’s side panel. It activates, humming and whirring. 

Poe feels like he should have something clever to say. But all he can remember is the _Finalizer_ , and the hurt, and the screaming, and Kylo Ren tearing apart his head: _Where is the map?_

BB-8 emits a low-pitched chirp of alarm.

It’s that little sound that brings Poe back to himself. He says, “Bee, don’t.”

Poe can’t risk alerting Adres that something’s up. The pieces are almost in place. If the sergeant realizes too soon that this is a ruse, then they’re all screwed.

He’s got to buy his friends more time. He can withstand this. He can. He’s done it before, mostly, and this time, the First Order doesn’t have Kylo Ren and his creepy Force powers.

Thankfully, the stormtrooper in the room doesn’t notice the source of Poe’s outburst. He drags Poe by the arm and undoes Poe’s binders. It isn’t a rescue or a kindness, Poe registers, but because of the paralytic chemical that interrogation droids are renowned for.

Poe appreciates the irony of the trooper having lugged him onto Terex’s throne. 

The red eye of the IT-O is like a sun. It advances, and a needle slides into his neck.

* * *

Once, Poe had tried to describe his ordeal onboard the _Finalizer_ to BB-8. He’d woken up from a nightmare, his breath coming up fast and short, and BB-8, who was charging in the cabin in the _Millenium Falcon_ , had asked him what he had dreamed about.

How do you describe a living nightmare to a droid? How do you put the physical flesh-blood-terror into words? 

“Think of it like,” he had said, “all your processors are scrambled, all your scans are bringing up errors, and your systems are starting and restarting. You’re trying to fly an X-wing at the same time, buddy, and it’s crashing--it’s falling in space--and all the stars are going out around you.”

It felt like _that_ , because the thing about stars, they’re constants in his life, they’re the lights that cradled him ever since he was a boy on his mother’s lap as they flew her A-wing together -- but with the pain, with the terror, there is only a suffocating and unnavigable dark. 

* * *

_Eight of Sabers, two of Coins, eleven of Staves, Demise of Flasks, Commander of Sabers…_

He wonders how Poe’s doing right about now. 

Terex’s musing is interrupted by urgent whistling. It’s Poe’s ball droid, rolling into the lounge.

Sergeant Adres frowns, looking up from his hand of cards. “What’s that droid saying?” 

“That, Sergeant, is my signal.” Terex snaps his fingers, and Lartis and Wix begin the assault on the stormtroopers.

Although they’re not on par with his Ranc lieutenants of old, they’re useful enough. Lartis is a native of Kaddak, a grown up street rat who has picked pockets, dealt spice, and executed robberies at various points in his lifetime. Wix is a veteran of Grakkus’ arena on Nar Shaddaa, a bulky Dowutin who, by his own accounting, has never lost a single match. 

Wix upends the sabacc table-- and Terex steps back and downs his glass of crystalmead.

It’s concentrated chaos, an ion storm in a bottle, Lartis striking out with his electro-lance and Wix pummeling with his fists. 

Soon, there is only one stormtrooper left standing. Sergeant Adres is using the sabacc table as a shield, his blaster flashing red as he fires at Lartis and Wix. The two guards ably dodge the beams, and Lartis grunts, hurling a toppled chair that misses Adres by inches. 

“You traitor!” Adres snarls. “We had a deal. You’re in league with the rebels.” 

“Something like that,” Terex says. “I’ve learned from personal experience that one must be wary of conducting business with the First Order. Kaddak is mine to rule, and the First Order is not inclined to share.” 

Like the back of his hand, he knows the story of the First Order and the Empire before it. Perhaps there will be an agreement now, but later, there will be more troops, more of his profits seized, and Terex either being replaced or being made into a patsy of the Order.

“Ooh,” he says, with a wince, after Adres dispatches Lartis with a well-aimed shot. “Wix, end this.” 

The Dowutin surges toward Adres. The blaster fire glances against his hardened skin as if they’re mere raindrops, and he rips away the table and casts it aside as if it weighs nothing. He brings his fists down--

\--but Adres has unclipped the riot control baton on his belt, and he spins it in a sizzling blue arc, knocking Wix down.

 _Very well_ , Terex thinks, reaching for a resonator mace hanging on the wall. Sometimes there are things you must do yourself, beyond the capabilities of hired help. 

“You picked the wrong soldier to mess with,” Adres growls. His eyes, human hazel and prosthetic blue, shimmer in the light cast by the riot control baton. “I’m Sergeant Adres of the 709th. The elite. The best of the best, who have served under the command of Supreme Leader Ren himself. I’m no ordinary stormtrooper, Terex.” 

“I wasn’t, either,” Terex says, showing his teeth. “And that’s Lord Terex to you, Sergeant.” He brings his mace forward, the activated clubs burning with electric red energy. 

The two blades clash against each other, spitting out scarlet and cerulean volts. 

“You’re dead, you pathetic old man,” Adres says. “You’re just backwater outlaw scum, telling tall tales of the past.” 

“I was a blaster in the hands of the Empire,” Terex says, his mace slashing, crashing. “I was a blade in the hands of the First Order. But the fact of the matter is, I am my own weapon, and _no one_ uses me. Not the Order. Not the Resistance. And certainly not whelp like you.” 

And then -- it’s over. 

Terex drops the mace next to the sergeant’s prone body. 

“I suppose it’s time to disable the IT-O,” Terex says, addressing Poe’s droid. “Thank you for your patience.” 

* * *

Poe wakes up, shuddering. The world in front of him is a bleary blur, and it feels like his heart is racing a parsec a minute. 

“--might have overdone the stim-shots,” says a voice, “but, see? He’s fine.” 

BB-8 says, _Beep--beep--worp!_

Poe blinks, his vision starting to clear. He’s still draped across the throne, his forehead matted with sweat, his limbs numb from electric shock, and his mouth desert dry. He takes in the room around him: the stormtrooper that had switched on the interrogation droid is now sprawled unmoving on the ground; the IT-O droid is powered off in the corner; and Terex is leaning over Poe. BB-8 is at the foot of the throne, his welding torch outstretched and ignited. 

“Sergeant Adres and his unit have been taken care of,” Terex says, his tone matter-of-fact. “Courtesy of myself and my guards. And this one trooper here by your droid. By the way, can you please tell him to stop pointing his little light at me right now? It’s rather laughable.” 

“Bee,” Poe says, “thanks for sticking by me.” 

BB-8 retracts his torch. _Vwee._

“Yeah. Me, too.” He looks up at Terex. “Terex, you’re _insane._ ” He really doesn’t know what else to say. He tries to get up from the throne, except his muscles twitch, and he’s back to being a boneless slump.

Terex says, “Why would I deny myself the chance to see you like this? Limp and lovely.” He reaches his hand out, and Poe flinches. His stupid, stupid body. That terrifying torturing droid. And Terex did this to him, because of course he did.

Terex’s fingers tangle in Poe’s hair, running through the strands. “That sergeant had quite a grudge against you. He told me that he wanted to kill you himself after my droid finished ferreting out your secrets.” 

Poe can’t repress a sigh as Terex traces slow patterns against his skull. “Yeah. We caused some trouble for him and his troops over Batuu. Brought down the _Finalizer_. Leia and I thought we had seen the last of the 709th, but it looks like some of them were able to get out. Not surprised that he would’ve taken it personally.” 

“Ah, like you and me.” 

“No,” Poe says. “Not like you.” And now it’s his turn to reach up, reach out, and he’s curling his hand against Terex’s scar-marked face, drawing him closer. A beat, and Terex’s hand slides out of his hair, and he moves forward. He pins Poe down on his throne--

Poe has never been kissed like this before. 

It is terrible and vicious. Torture feels like stars going out. This feels like stars shattering, filaments bursting, entropy devouring. Like the cataclysm that swallowed the Hosnian system and like the disaster that cored out the Dassal system.

They break apart. Poe says, “You’re a terrible person, you know that?”

“Have I ever claimed otherwise?” Terex says, archly. “You’re the one who’s looking at me like that. Do you typically go around making eager voorpak eyes at everyone who shoots at, tortures, and stabs you?”

“Then that would be pretty much everyone else in the galaxy. Though it’s not all extreme vendettas. Sometimes I’m too smart for my own good.” 

“Smart,” Terex repeats, scoffing. “If only they realized the best way to shut you up.” He rubs his thumb underneath Poe’s jaw. “I cannot comprehend why the Resistance even lets you outside. Poe Dameron, this is the most foolish decision you’ve made in your entire rebel career. And this includes whatever happened with your fleet getting wiped out six months ago, which I hear had something to do with you.” 

“That was Hux and your old First Order pals,” Poe says, under his breath. “And -- maybe it was on me, too. But, hey, if you’re trying to take this back, I thought the point is that you _like_ my mouth. Sure felt like that a minute ago.”

“Oh, not only your mouth, Poe.” 

BB-8 launches into a stream of chiding binary, and Poe flushes. “Right. Comms open, Beebee. This is Silver Team One, and we’ve solved our trooper problem. Silver Team Four, the automated defense system is online?” 

“Yup,” Snap confirms. “Blasted TIE fighter saw me and started taking potshots, though thank the Force, Commander Doza’s kid came swooping in -- she and several Ace Squadron pilots from the _Colossus_ \-- and I was able to finish slicing.”

“Sorry, love, wish we had been able to cover you, but the Baron’s got our full attention,” Karé says. “The defense system is helping. We almost got it. We’ve got it cornered, comms and hyperdrive jammed.” 

“Poe, we were able to take the others out!” That was Kaz. “Well, team effort thanks to us, the Aces, and the defense system. Though I’m kinda on fire.” 

“Your ship is called the _Fireball_ , what d’you expect?” Suralinda says.

Poe says, “Have Arsix fix it, Kaz. That’s what he’s for.” 

“He’s on it, but -- stang, Wexley, what’s up with your droid? It’s like he wants me dead. He keeps calling me a meatsack.” 

Snap winces. “Arsix found out that I built and modded a commando droid when I was a kid. He’s been cranking up his aggression index, hoping that’ll make me like him more. Sorry, kid.”

“For once,” Jess declares, “I’m not the one having droid issues. This is great.” 

“How’s it going on your end, Team Two?” Poe asks.

“The shipyards are clear. We got ‘em. Synara’s a good shot. Not bad for a pirate.” 

Synara says, “As I told you before, I’m not a pirate any longer, and--” They both drop into murmured cross-talk that Poe can’t make out. 

“Okay, good job, everyone,” Poe says, letting out a breath of relief. “Silver Team Three, once the Baron is out, escort the _Colossus_ to Kaddak’s shipyards for repairs. Snap, don’t forget to send the _Colossus_ the clearance codes, too, so the defense system recognizes it's a friendly.”

“Copy that, Poe.” 

“We hear you, Commander.” 

BB-8 shuts off the comms. 

Out loud, Poe says, “The plan worked.” 

“Indeed,” Terex says. Throughout Poe’s conversation with his fellow Resistance members, Terex had stepped back from the throne, standing a ways away from Poe and BB-8. Now he turns around. “Shockingly competent of you. Every little part relied on the other and unveiled near simultaneously.

“We kept Adres and his men distracted, so they wouldn’t notice Karé Kun, Suralinda Javos, and Kazuda Xiono engage the TIEs and call for reinforcements. Temmin Wexley and Xiono’s droid activated the automated defense system to assist the embattled pilots and keep Kaddak further protected.

“Jessika Pava and Synara San eliminated the remaining troopers stationed planetside, with the benefit of ensuring that the shipyards won’t receive the _Colossus_ with blaster fire.

“Above and below, the path for the _Colossus_ has been cleared. That princess-general of yours is setting you up to be her successor, isn’t she?” 

There’s a note in Terex’s tone that makes Poe bristle. “It’s not like the general’s out the door -- she’s done amazing things for the Alliance and for the Resistance, and I don’t see her stopping anytime soon. It’s an honor to serve under her, and I don’t think I can replace her.” Not after the _Raddus_. 

He continues, “What do you care about the Resistance’s chain of command, anyway? Still snooping on rebel frequencies?” 

Terex replies, “Perhaps. It seems… like a waste, that’s all.” 

Poe’s eyebrows shoot up. “What do you mean?” 

“Do you know what Commander Malarus did to me?” 

“Sure. You got in trouble after I beat you. After tossing Lor San Tekka into the void of space, you ran and turned to crime.” 

Terex motions toward the scars on his face. “Phasma put implants in my head, and Malarus made me into her puppet. I was a tool. A servant. Soldiers like us, Poe -- we are meant to be moulded and controlled by our masters. We are the gears that keep turbolasers firing, the coaxium that keeps hyperspace drives powering, the kindle that keeps fires burning. Don’t you ever wish you were free of it?” 

“We’ll be free,” Poe says, “when we win the war. And -- fine, that is a karked up thing that happened to you, but you should’ve seen it coming. It’s not the same. It’s the First Order. They’re monsters _._ ”

Leia didn’t stick implants in his head after Crait, that’s for damn sure. 

“It’s so easy to be blinded by the vision, isn’t it?” Terex says, softly. “Order. Peace. A well-organized universe with the right all-knowing leaders at the helm. I believed in that dream -- that dream of empire -- ever since I was a young man, and sometimes I see it still. But you will get older, and the dream will fade. What things do you see in your sleep now, truly and utterly?” 

Poe knows: He is fighting the same war that his parents fought, and it feels like the galaxy is set within a spiral that will never stop spinning.

He knows that he sees losing the Resistance fleet over and over again, the gut wrenching horrified guilt of it, and in his head, Wedge Antilles is telling him about one of the lowest points in the last war: _Alliance High Command trusted someone they shouldn’t have, and our fleet couldn’t escape as the Imperials arrived… It was bad. We lost so many cruisers, so many of our leaders. That was how Leia ended up being made a general, and Luke told me that he’d never seen her so angry before. Looking back, I know it sounds dramatic, but some people called it the day that hope died--_

One loss and the next. One planet than another. One regime and its heir. 

Poe is not a Jedi or a general. Poe is not a legend that people whisper like prayers: _May the Force be with you_. He is Poe Dameron, and he grew up under the green trees and blue skies and bright stars of Yavin 4, where rebels once plotted and planned, with the dream given to him by his parents that this was it. This is the end they fought for -- and _he cannot have it._

And he says: “What else am I supposed to do? I can’t sit back and do nothing. I can fly and fight, and I can do whatever I can to help as many people as possible.” 

Terex laughs. The short harsh sound startles Poe, and Terex’s glinting grey eyes are like cold iron. “Always trying to play the hero, Poe. You haven’t changed. In any case, you _were_ helpful today.” 

A high trilling sound. BB-8 has turned back on his comms--

“Uh, Poe, problem,” Suralinda says. “The defense system turrets started blasting at us.”

Karé is swearing loudly and colorfully, but eventually she finishes, “--skugging reek shit. We’re trying to cover the _Colossus_ by diverting the system's missiles, but we can’t waylay them all. I don’t know how long its shields can hold--or how long we can last--” 

Kaz says, “Neeku just told me that the strain on the shields is draining the remaining power left in the _Colossus’_ life support system. Also, I am more on fire!” 

Poe stumbles off the throne and sits by BB-8. He suddenly feels the pain more than ever--the stims that Terex gave him must be wearing off. “Snap, what happened? Can you fix it?” 

He hears a smothered crinkled sound and guesses that Snap must be frantically snapping his fingers through his EVA suit gloves. “The clearance codes aren’t working. It’s classifying everything within planet-range as enemies. It’s like I’ve been completely locked out of the system.” 

“As if you’re being remotely overridden,” Poe says, quietly.

“Huh. Yeah, that’d do it.” 

Poe mutes BB-8’s comms. He says, “Terex. Stop it. Whatever you’re doing, _stop it right now._ ” 

“Why are you assuming it’s me?” Terex says, affecting an air of nonchalant innocence. 

“This isn’t the time to play games,” Poe says. He staggers to his feet, and makes himself move toward Terex. Soon, he’s several feet away from him. “That’s my friends up there--that’s hundreds of people up in the _Colossus._ Let them land, and whatever it is between you and me, we can figure it out. But you can’t let them all die.” 

“It’s sad,” Terex says, clicking his tongue. “You’re trying so hard to be a pure-hearted hero. _You_ should stop. Just. Let. Them. _Go_.” He pronounces the last sentence like a judgment.

Poe begins to spring at Terex-- but Terex smiles, and he picks up the blaster that the unconscious stormtrooper had left discarded on the ground. BB-8 warbles in dismay, spinning forward, and Terex trains it on the rollie--

“Beebee!” 

\--and he fires, sending BB-8 spiraling backward, stunned, the red light in his eyepiece sputtered out. Poe stares at his unresponsive friend in numb disbelief. 

“You’re my next shot, if you take another step forward,” Terex says, almost conversationally. “Although, of course, you still can barely stand, never mind disarm me.” 

“The funny thing is,” Poe says, “I could probably forgive you for having me tortured. I guess that’s the dumb part of my brain that says I deserve it. That I’m already broken enough from the first time around. But this? Karé, Kaz, Sura, and all those civilians? This is murder.” 

Terex rolls his eyes. “As if I ever wanted your forgiveness, Poe.” 

“What the pfassk do you get out of this?” 

“You’re hurting yourself,” Terex says. “You understand that, don’t you? Every battle you fight. Every consequence that befalls your actions. You keep letting them use you, and as the war drags on, that beautiful infuriating defiance in your eyes gets a little bit dimmer.

“You know, it would be easy. Let your friends and that station get blasted in the black. That duty and responsibility, gone… and you could walk away. Free.” 

Poe says, “And then what? Retire to a beach hut on Spira? Take a tour of Canto Bight’s casinos? You’re trying to do some banthashit psychoanalyzing of me, but you don’t get me at all.” 

“Stop me if I’m wrong,” Terex says, his head cocked to the side. “At the tender age of sixteen standard, Poe Dameron ran away from home. He wanted to explore the galaxy beyond the confines of his dreary farm boy life on Yavin 4. And, hmm, let’s say, raging daddy issues, since his mother died when he was eight years old--” 

“Shut up.” 

“But I’m not wrong, am I?” Terex says. “Where was I? Ah, right. So, Poe Dameron made new friends on a faraway winter planet, nothing like the humid forests of Yavin. His friends took him in. They accepted this boy who flew fast and talked tough. His friends--the spice runners of Kijimi.” 

Who the kark had been talking about him on Kijimi? Zorii wouldn’t. Even if she still hates him, it’s not like she would be chatty with a slimeball informant of Terex’s or whatever. 

Poe says, “Is that what this is? Are you asking me to be your crime lord accessory or something? Are you that lonely?” 

Terex says, simply, “I know everything about you, Poe.” 

“I’m not sixteen anymore. _I am nothing like you._ ” Poe takes one step forward. Then another. Terex waves the blaster warningly. Poe ignores it and closes the distance between them, until the blaster tip is pressed against his chest.

“Give me the blaster,” Poe says. “And call off the defense system with whatever remote you’re using to control it.” 

He says, “Please… _my Lord Terex…_ ” 

Terex’s eyes widen--his breath hitches--and he drops the blaster. 

“I can’t believe that actually worked,” Poe says, fumbling to catch it. 

“Well,” Terex says, “it was worth a shot.” He removes a datapad tucked into a pouch on his belt, and keys in a sequence with the swipe of his hand. “There. They’re all saved. At least for today.” 

“But for now, that’s all that matters.” Poe lifts up the blaster, his finger on the trigger. Terex looks at him, his gaze challenging.

Poe aims it at the inert IT-O droid behind him, a volley of blaster bolts tearing through the sphere. 

“You owe me a new interrogation droid.” 

“Sure. Go ahead and put it on the Resistance’s tab.” 

* * *

“---That should do it,” Snap says, and one second, then another, and the light of BB-8’s photoreceptor winks on, and he flares back to life.

BB-8 zooms toward Poe, knocking aside Snap’s arc wrench in the process. _Bee--beep! Bwvwap!!_

“Welcome back, buddy,” Poe says, touching BB-8’s crown. His throat is thick when he says, “That was-- completely my fault. Screwed up big time. But everything’s okay now.” 

_Vweep?_

“Snap and Seebee were able to take control of the automated defense system in the nick of time -- the _Colossus_ is docked in the shipyards and getting fixed up. Karé, Sura, and Kaz all made it back in one piece, too -- though the _Fireball_ is gonna need extensive repairs. But I think that’s business as usual for Kaz.”

Poe doesn’t think he’s felt a more powerful relief than the sight of the station landed and his friends reunited and alive. Yeager had saluted him from the _Colossus_ ’ hangar, and Poe had grinned and returned the gesture at his old friend.

BB-8 lets out a soft sound. 

“I wasn’t thinking,” Poe says. “I’m an idiot. He’s--” He glances over at Snap, who’s packing away the tools that he’d used to repair BB-8. “I’ll talk to you later, alright? Why don’t you catch up with Seebee? She’s been worried about you.” Not that CB-23 had admitted it outright. She’s been checking on BB-8 -- it’s sweet. 

Leave it to BB-8 to have an uncomplicated love life, Poe thinks.

BB-8 warbles in exasperation at the obvious dismissal, but he beeps a flustered assent, and rolls away.

It’s a day later. Black Squadron is staying at a motel that overlooks Kaddak’s shipyards. They’re keeping an eye on the _Colossus,_ in case the First Order comes back. Thankfully, they haven’t heard a peep from them.

Regardless, even if the Order sends more ships, the automated defense system should be able to hold them off. Unless they send an entire fleet -- but Poe doubts they would expend that many resources on an Outer Rim crime den, especially with the campaign of Kashyyyk still ongoing. By the time they muster up their forces, the _Colossus_ should be airborne and out of the system by tomorrow morning at the latest.

“Thanks, Snap,” Poe says, turning to his friend, who’s finished up packing up the tools. 

“No problem. It’s nice to see him rolling again.” Snap sighs, and he settles on a worn chair across from Poe. “It seems like a miracle that we all got out of this alive. It freaked me out to see Karé and the others getting blasted at. Almost jumped into my own X-wing to help them -- but I kept reminding myself that I had to keep trying to shut that damn thing off.” 

Guilt tight in his chest, Poe says, “I shouldn’t have trusted Terex. The plan went wrong because he wanted to mess with me. Stupid obsessive grudge on his end.” _And mine._

“At least you stopped him,” Snap says. He pauses. “To be honest, I feel bad that I came along in the first place. That I turned on the system that caused all this ruckus, all because of my teenage hobby for tinkering with Separtist tech.” 

“Hey,” Poe says, reaching out to touch the other pilot’s shoulder, “it helped shoot those TIEs. Don’t blame yourself. Black Squadron wouldn’t be complete without you.” 

Snap shakes his head. “I was supposed to go to Kashyyyk. Leia initially assigned me to Phantom Squadron, and I turned it down. I told her I wanted to join Karé and her squad on supply runs. When this mission came up, I thought, here’s a way to make up for it.” 

Snap usually isn’t the type to turn down missions, but -- “If Leia agreed, it’s nothing to beat yourself up about. You’re still doing Resistance things for the Resistance, pal.” 

“See, logically, I agree,” Snap says. “But not so logically, my head’s not on the same page. Kashyyyk reminds me of… something that happened years ago. A different time in my life. Going back seems like tempting fate or the Force or whatever.”

Snap and Kashyyyk?

That’s when it dawns on Poe, and he feels slow for having not connected the dots earlier. “Liberation Day. Your dad was one of the prisoners freed from that Imperial jail on Kashyyyk.” 

Sometimes he forgets that Snap is more than the son of Norra Wexley and Wedge Antilles -- two former Rebel Alliance pilots who had been Poe’s instructors at flight academy. Snap had a dad before Wedge, and Poe had heard his name mentioned in history lessons.

Brentin Wexley. He’d been thrown in an Imperial jail for being a rebel, then eventually released. But the Empire had brainwashed him, and so, during a huge public celebration on Chandrila, Brentin Wexley and the other ex-prisoners had attacked and assassinated prominent New Republic leaders. 

Snap inclines his head. “That’s him. I’ve been thinking of him lately. I wish he could’ve met Karé, and hell, even Arsix-Deate. He was good with tech like me. He would’ve gotten a kick out of that dumb bot.”

Poe says, “The Empire… they put some kind of bio-chip in his head.” Internally, Poe berates himself for his abrupt bluntness; he knows that he probably shouldn’t be prodding Snap about this.

“Yeah. He pointed a pistol at Mon Mothma. At -- at me.” 

“I’m sorry, Snap.” 

“He was good, though, in the end. He fought the programming as best he could. And he died protecting my mom.” Snap heaves out a breath. “Like I said. It's in the past."

“He’d be proud, I bet,” Poe says. “You helped save a lot of lives yesterday. Maybe it’s not the best idea to leave Kaddak’s defense system with someone like Terex, but crime den or not, there are people here who don’t deserve to live under the First Order’s boot. You didn’t need to go to Kashyyyk.” 

Snap gives him a crooked smile. “You always know the right thing to say, you know that? Even if it makes you sound like one of our old-timer vets, when I’m older than you, you whippersnapper. It feels like only yesterday that Wedge and my mom were comming me to complain about this hotshot smartmouth kid they were teaching at flight academy.” 

“Excuse you, I was one of their best students.” 

“My mom kept saying: ‘Is this brat really Shara’s kid?’ Then you did some crazy maneuver during your _Redemption_ scenario exam, and she told me: ‘Yep. He’s Shara’s kid, alright.’” 

Poe laughs. He had been a little wild back then, Kijimi only several years behind him, but that chapter of his life is one of the happier ones. At flight academy and then the Navy, he’d run into old Alliance members who recognized him, who had known his parents. It was flattering and humbling, and it made him feel more certain that he had made the right choice to commit to protecting the galaxy that his parents had fought so hard to wrest away from the Empire. 

Then, the First Order. The Resistance. Becoming more determined to carry out this duty, so he could become more than worthy of wearing the ring hanging around his neck -- his mother’s legacy on a chain of silver. 

Poe touches his chest, feeling the outline of the slim circlet above his beating heart.

He thinks of the scars on Terex’s face, and what Terex had said about freedom. 

He makes a resolution to himself, then pushes it away. He’ll deal with it later. For now, he and Snap talk, swapping memories of what it’s like to be the son of rebels.

* * *

Terex’s Dowutin guard lets Poe into the safehouse on the eighty-ninth level of the Silver. The guard is battered, a bacta patch on his head, yet he’s still such a hulking massive giant that Poe can’t help but look over his shoulder to see if he follows him.

He doesn’t. Terex is alone in the sleeping quarters, sitting on the bed. He isn’t wearing the red and silver armor, but a black long-sleeved turtleneck shirt and grey trousers, his legs crossed and a glass of red wine in hand. 

“And you called _me_ insane,” Terex says. “You’re back.” 

“I’m back,” Poe agrees. He steps forward, and he stops in front of the bed. “You almost got a lot of people killed yesterday.” 

“I did,” Terex acknowledges.

“You had me tortured.” 

“I did.” 

“You’ve done terrible things for the First Order -- out of your own free will, before and after any mind-controlling implants were drilled into your head -- and you don’t care. You don’t regret it.” 

“I don’t." Terex sets the wine glass down on the bedside table. “You know who I am, Poe. What did you think this was going to be? Sunshine and blueblossoms and Kallakean rainbows? Romantic declarations and hand-holding while I became a brave daring rebel hero like you?” 

Poe says, “On the _Enshado_ , when Malarus captured me and Snap -- that was you who helped us escape, wasn’t it? You let Oddy go, and he got us out of that cell. Even though you had that thing in your brain.” 

Terex looks taken aback. Then, a sneer curls his mouth. “Don’t attribute some inane sentiment to that one little act. I assure you, I meant to undermine Malarus and plan to rid myself of those implants. And, really, it seems rather cheap for your successful torture and death to be at her hands, while I remained a puppet. If anything,” he says, “it should've been my success. You should’ve been _mine_.” 

“Oh?” Poe says. “What happened to zero sentiment?” 

Terex’s gaze is withering. “Only you would think that was something noble.” 

“Not noble,” Poe says. He settles beside Terex on the bed, and he feels Terex’s eyes on him, sharp and burning. “You’re obsessed with me.”

“I’ve survived perfectly fine on my own without you, Poe,” Terex says, dryly. “I’ve rebuilt my network, and I’m ready to continue daily operations without seeing you ever again in my life. I’ll confess, sometimes old habits die hard, and I was… curious.” 

“You mean, excited at the prospect of trying to hurt me and corrupt me?”

“Entirely,” Terex says. “You have no idea how gratifying it felt when I found that my interest wasn’t completely one-sided. You’re an indulgence, Poe Dameron.” He says it with the same manner he had called Poe _lovely_ earlier, fond and possessive. 

Poe thinks: They're never going to be on the same side for the same reason. Terex is a shipwreck of a person -- a moral gravity well of a man -- and there’s nothing in the universe that will excuse him.

But he thinks he understands why Terex said the things he did earlier, taunting and provoking and terrible. A song seeking its counterpoint, a star seeking its binary, wondering: _Is he like me?_

Yet they are not the same song -- they are not the same star -- and freedom means two different things to them. Poe won’t give up on this war, on his friends, on anything.

But, gods, the way Terex _looks_ at him.

Maybe they’re not the same, but there’s enough recognition there for it to count. Maybe it’s all right to fall, even if it’s a momentary tumble. 

Poe says, “You can have me, then. Just for now--” 

And Terex kisses him. Fiercely, furiously, _ferociously_. He presses Poe down on the bed--he entwines his fingers through the curls of Poe’s hair--his body like an anchor--his mouth and his hands consuming. And Poe, laughing, breathless, yielding, lets himself be unraveled beneath him. 

* * *

Poe leaves in the morning. Outside, Kaddak’s sun is creeping high in the clear pale blue sky, illuminating the spiraling levels of the city. 

He first sees Kaz in the shipyards, working on his partly scorched ship.

“Hey, Poe,” Kaz says, waving. “The _Colossus_ is almost ready to go. And I’m making some last minute repairs on the _Fireball_. Yeager kicked me out of the hangar last night and told me to do this myself.” He scowls, but he returns his attention to the open panel, his hydrospanner poking at the racer’s inner workings.

“It’s great to see that you’ve become a mechanic for real,” Poe says, watching him. “More than your cover as a Resistance spy. Knew you could do it, buddy.” 

“I’m still not anywhere near as good as Neeku or Tam or Yeager,” Kaz admits. “But it’s something.” 

A scream.

They both look up. Some hapless soul is getting tossed off one of the Silver’s upper levels, their limbs flailing. Another typical fight on this crime den of a planet. Kaz lets out a startled noise.

Poe feels the familiar déjà vu of the scene -- the time he had introduced Kaz to his mission on the _Colossus_. A large Klatooinian had pitched a protesting Gotal from the platform into Castilon’s deep blue sea, while Kaz recoiled in alarm. 

“Wow,” Kaz says. “It’s just like home, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” Poe says, “it is.” 

And he gives Kaz a nod, and he makes his way across the shipyard, where his X-wing is docked and his friends are waiting for him. 


End file.
